A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  He smiled crookedly. "I don't remember the particulars."

  Determined to think only of her baby's good fortune, she fought to suppress tears. "Toddie's such a wonderful little boy. He deserves a good father."

  "I thought you and I'd had a child together. That Toddie was yours and mine, and I was glad." The flickering light played over her hair gilding it with dollops of gold. "Now that we both know that isn't true, I don't know what to call you. What's your name?"

  "We have a child. Call me whatever you like." Trying to ignore his probing look, she shifted her gaze to his hard-muscled chest. An unexpected and sensual warmth crept over her. With every fiber of her being, she wanted his arms around her, to hear him whisper that it didn't matter what had gone before.

  Not as Lee DuBois, not as Toddie's motherT.K. had to love her for herself.

  T.K. moved slightly, his body coming in contact with hers. He wanted her again, but more than having her ease his desire, he wanted to be with her, hold her, protect her, trust her for the rest of his life. "Until you're ready to tell me, I'll call you wife."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elise awoke early. She padded barefoot to the window, and pulled back the curtain. A pristine world awaited the morning. She crossed her arms and rubbed them to ward off the chill.

  She wasn't sure how long T.K. had been in the room, but sensed when he stood behind her. Don't touch me, she prayed silently. She'd learned quickly that, in matters of the heart, her body was a capricious advocate. She had but to know he was near to have her face flush.

  He spoke softly. "It's too cold to run around half-dressed."

  Tension arched between them. "I suppose. The snow seems to have let up." She let the curtain drop and moved away. "A white world."

  "Why are you running from me? Nothing is any different than it was last night."

  Elise gazed at his hard, masculine face. "Everything is different. I know you can see that." Almost before she could finish, his arms encircled her. She knew if she hesitated, she'd be lost. "You've no right, besides you'll tear my gown."

  "The right of possession, wife. And to hell with the gown."

  She wedged her fists between them. That man was a new T.K., one she'd known existed, but had never seen. "There are things we need to discuss before we"

  Amusement quirked his mouth. "Before we what? Say it. Before we make love?"

  "There's been too much pretense."

  "You pretended, madam. If I had known for sure I was Toddie's pa, I would have told you. Nothing would have prevented me from telling the whole world."

  Her breasts pressed his chest, and he forced her slight frame to his. When she felt the pounding of his heart, the emotional barrier she had carefully erected threatened to vanish. She strained away from his strong, earthy virility. "Does it surprise you that I'm glad you're his father?"

  "Everything you do surprises me. And as much as I'd like to, honey, I have trouble putting faith in anything you say. You've told so many stories. Or should I say lies? You married me, used another woman's name, and pretended to be my son's mother. Like a fool I swallowed it all." He spoke bitterly. "I wanted to believe it."

  She saw the pain in his eyes. "I did it for Toddie," she said, her voice low.

  "I know you love him. And you're a good mother to him. I give you that."

  "Thank you."

  His hands no longer held her prisoner, but had begun a slow seduction down her back. "You didn't trust me at Boggy Creek when I came for you and the boy. You even married me without telling me the truth." He inclined his head so his mouth slanted a few inches above hers. "What's your name? Not Lee, obviously."

  At the time they had exchanged marriage vows, the words had been duplicitous to her. She had said and done what was necessary to keep Toddie. T.K. had done the same. She knew she could never have denied Toddie his father, but some obstinate streak in her required that T.K. believe in her no strings attached.

  "Tell me." Raw possessiveness flared in his eyes. "I demand to know."

  She felt him heavy and hard against her. Even in the cold room, his body was hot and muscled, petitioning hers to respond. Damn him. She wanted desperately to see understanding in his eyes, not that inflexible blindness to human needs and emotion. Between the two of them, they had made Toddie a pawn. "You can demand to perdition. I'm Toddie's mother." She challenged him to deny it. "I'm your wife. But I'm also more than wife and mother. I'm a woman, a person in my own right, with fears, hopes, and challenges. You seem to have trouble understanding that."

  Once more, bitterness colored his words. "You're right. I have trouble understanding you. I also want to believe you. Despite it all, I want you."

  "After what you've said, I can't believe you'd dare suggest it."

  "But I do dare." He let his gaze wander down to entrap her breasts, making them swell against the fabric of her nightgown. He kissed her throat. "And will again and again."

  Elise felt her resolve weaken against the onslaught of his lips. "Blast you, T.K. You think you can do whatever your body dictates and to hell with the consequence."

  He smiled wryly, tenderly. Such action could result in a new life without the sting of trickery. It was a compelling thought. "Wrong again, love. I've never been more aware of the importance or the urgency."

  "You know what I meant."

  He searched her face. She wanted him. The heavy lids, the flushed face, the quick breathing they were all the assurances he needed. His mouth found hers. Moments later, he lifted his head and laughed softly. "Do I know what you meant? I'll admit it's the first time I ever watched a mountain cat and could guess which way she'd spring."

  "Oh, you conceited donkey."

  He ignored her flailing arms and lifted her easily. In two strides, he whisked her to the bed and lay down beside her. He held her easily with one leg thrown over her, studying her lovely face.

  "Conceited enough to believe that you liked my loving you, that you will again."

  Despite his lack of trust, he wasn't above binding her to him any way he could, and that included lovemaking. Each time they made love, he learned something new about her, an unexpected depth, a delightful wonder. Someday she might come to love him.

  "Please, T.K. This isn't the way."

  "What is the way, sweet wife?" He ran his tongue over her bottom lip. "I'll do it any way you want."

  She opened her mouth to protest, and he nuzzled her throat. His maleness moved against her. "I wasn't talking about that."

  His wife had come to the marriage bed, chaste, innocent, bearing her tender passion. Had she offered her body as bribe or payment or gift? Would he ever know?

  "The way of a man with a woman?" he asked huskily.

  "No. Yes. I don't know."

  "I'm hungry for you, love." When she attempted to speak, he shushed her and buried his face between her breasts.

  Unable to resist, she sought his naked flesh, touching, caressing, stroking. His muffled groan elicited a whimper from deep within her. In some far-off corner of her mind, she knew that what they were doing didn't provide a bridge for the chasm that had opened between them. And then she forgot it all in the rhythm of his thrusts.

  Later, she wasn't sure how long, T.K. rose and stretched. He met her gaze and smiled, his eyes laying claim not only to the day, but a lifetime of nights.

  "The time will come, love, when you'll tell me your name. And while you're at it, how you happened to have my son in your arms the day I found you in Boggy Creek. I'd like that."

  She had read once that if a person felt no need to weep, it wasn't love. When the door closed behind him, she brushed away a tear.

  T.K. recognized her bewilderment. Like unfamiliar words of a foreign language, his wife, what else could he call her? read him, but not well. How could she have so much strength and look so vulnerable? What lie would she come up with next?

  He led his horse out of the corral. As much as he hated to admit it, he had to get away from her and himself and think
rationally. Lee, or whatever her name was, had kept her secret long past the time to acknowledge it. Even when they lay in each others' arms, suffused in lingering pleasure, a basic distrust existed between them. Would she always hold back the truth? Would he?

  Once in the saddle, he rode hard, not exactly sure where he was going until Mac's beckoning arm gave him direction. "Something wrong?" he asked, riding up beside him.

  Mac removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Windmill close to the sheepherder's cabin needs some repairs. I got a few tools and aim to head on over there."

  T.K. ignored his top hand's searching look and swung in beside him. "Leave the windmill alone until the wind dies down."

  "I planned to stay at the cabin and watch the weather. When it's a little calmer, I'll take care of the problem."

  They snaked through mesquites, cactus pads, and yucca, then finally up a sharp incline to reach the windmill. After assessing what needed to be done, they trotted on to the sheepherder's cabin, long since abandoned and now used for protection from the weather.

  Inside, they made a fire. Mac went for water at the windmill, and T.K. searched for food in case they were there until late afternoon. He found a tin of coffee and some canned goods. After prying open a can of beans and another of peaches, he placed them on the table.

  Mac's arrival coincided with a strong blaze in the fireplace. Before filling their plates, they waited for the coffee to boil, neither saying much. Instead, they smoked and gazed into the fire.

  T.K. rose abruptly. "How the hell can life get so complicated?"

  With a shrewdness born of experience, Mac studied his boss. "Usually when a man starts talking about life and complications, he's referring to a woman."

  T.K. walked to the window and looked out. ''I'm damned if I know what the problem is."

  "You didn't disagree, so I reckon it's your woman."

  Loyalty, T.K. thought resignedly, prevented him from adding that, if the truth were known, nobody would believe it. "My woman. Plus some wrongs of my own."

  "I heard a camp town preacher say sin carries its own reward. Never put much stock in preachers though."

  "Believe him," T.K. said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "My old man used to say the mind can ride the wind in all directions. You want to choose a direction and talk or just pick at it like a buzzard?"

  "I claimed my rights."

  "I can't think that's what the preacher had in mind when he raved about sin," Mac said, amusement crinkling the lines around his eyes.

  "I don't understand my wife."

  "Maybe we're not supposed to understand 'em." Mac leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "If you're going to bag the bird, Mr. Burke, start thrashing the bushes."

  T.K. stopped his pacing. "Over a year ago, I slept with a girl near Boggy Creek. We were both drunk. She thought she was in bed with my brother. Claimed he got her pregnant." T.K. kicked at a chair, overturning it.

  Mac took his time placing a log on the fire. "Don't suppose your brother wanted to celebrate."

  "Patrick pretended it was true. Claimed the boy was his, but refused to marry the mother. The fact was, he never slept with the woman."

  "Why would he say he did? Don't hardly make sense."

  "My brother seldom makes sense. And his humor is damned different from most people's. He finally got around to telling the truth at the time the horse fell with him. My best guess is that Patrick thought he was going to die and wanted to set the record straight."

  Mac reached for his coffee cup. "Didn't you suspect you might be the father?"

  "Oh, hell, yes. But who knew the truth?"

  "Reckon that could cause some worry."

  "Especially when I found out my wife was not the natural mother?"

  Mac's eyes widened. "What happened to the real mother?"

  "She died in the Boggy Creek tornado. Probably drowned."

  Locking his fingers behind his head, Mac leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. "After Ellie died, I developed an abiding interest in migrating. Several spots in Kansas, into the Oklahoma Panhandle, then on to Texas with the idea of eventually settling somewhere near San Antone. But on the way to Tascosa from Adobe Walls, I spent a few nights in Boggy Creek."

  "Yeah?" T.K. nodded, wondering what that had to do with the subject at hand.

  "Played poker, did some drinking and dancing. Met a girl named Lee DuBois. About then, I needed some fun in my life, and this Lee laughed a lot. Always thought her reputation was worse than the facts. Didn't know for sure, of course."

  T.K. stared at him. "What are you trying to say?"

  "That it was a coincidence two women would have the same name and live in the same place."

  "You suspected my wife had taken on Lee's identity. Why didn't you say something?"

  "Wasn't my problem."

  T.K. wished fervently it wasn't his problem. "When I found out I was Toddie's pa and because I loved the woman I thought was his mother, I was happy as a Hereford bull in a spring pasture. Guess you can see that truth got scarce around the Lazy B."

  "Miz Burke admitted she wasn't the boy's mother?"

  T.K. nodded. He had no intention of explaining how he'd discovered his wife's duplicity. "She told me."

  "Was she upset when you got around to the truth about your night with the boy's natural mother?"

  "Said she was glad." He had his doubts. Maybe because he was too possessive himself.

  Mac's matter-of-fact voice broke the silence. "Reckon she knows there's not many perfect men."

  "My wife lied for Toddie's sake."

  "From all appearances, I'd say your wife loves you. Maybe she's telling the truth. Maybe she is glad you're the boy's pa. One thing for sure though: You'll never know what a woman's thinking."

  T.K. nodded grimly. "She may decide to give me a dry-eyed kiss good-bye." He didn't think she would leave Toddie. He wished he could convince her a good life lay before them if they could be honest with each other. He wanted to believe it himself.

  "For some reason, truth is more welcome at one time than at another. There's no law says you have to discuss your problems with her tonight or tomorrow," Mac reminded him sagely. "Pick your time."

  Hope burned in his chest. T.K. felt he'd escaped the hangman. That night, he'd hold his wife in his arms and make love to her until the demons no longer haunted him.

  He swore softly. The demons had driven the windmill completely from his mind. The sun was almost down, the wind had abated, and he and Mac hadn't stirred from the cabin.

  <><><><><><><><><><><>

  Elise awoke to the sound of her husband closing the door. The moon sailed from behind a cloud, outlining T.K.'s silhouette before the window. Through slitted eyes, she watched him remove his bandanna, then his shirt and pants. Each item tossed aside carried its own message of seduction. First his muscled chest with its mat of ebony hair came into view, then his tapered waist and strong legs.

  He came to her naked, quietly sliding in beside her. "Remember me?" he whispered softly. She pretended to sleep. He pressed up against her and spoke again. "Don't ignore your husband, woman. He's home from battling a dangerous windmill."

  Trying to hold her defiance to manageable levels, she answered defensively, "Toddie was a handful today. I'm tired."

  "Would you prefer I not come to your bed?" His voice held an entreaty. "Tell me the truth."

  Always, he questioned her honesty. "Of course not. I'm glad."

  "You better mean it, love, because this is where I intend to be." His hand moved boldly over her and carne to rest on her stomach. The heat of his mouth on hers seared its way to the juncture of her thighs. She muttered a protest, then stifled it, stunned by the intensity of her body's response. She flung all her doubts and fears to the winds, her hunger matching his. An explosion erupted within her. Dimly, she heard his own guttural cry of triumph.

  It was a scene to be enacted night after night, always ending with his arms wrap
ped securely around her, his drowsy command caressing her ear. "Go to sleep, wife."

  The mornings were different, bringing their usual spate of chores and the inevitable qualms and uncertainties. At night, led on by passion, she succumbed to T.K.'s lovemaking, feeling no constraint in his arms nor recognizing any restraint in him. But always afterward, the wall went up between them. Not by word or action had he misled her into thinking he trusted her or loved her. She thought bitterly that carnal knowledge carried its own flag of surrender.

  "I'm riding out this morning." T.K.'s razor slapped the leather strop. His face was covered with lather, his torso bare. Broad muscles rippled across his back each time he moved.

  Elise levered herself up on her elbow so that she could see him better. "How long will you be gone?"

  The question communicated more than just curiosity, and T.K. wrinkled his forehead. "I hadn't realized such things mattered to you."

  "And I'm reminded it's none of my business."

  He grinned mischievously. "Sounds as if you'll miss me."

  "Believe what you like." Elise threw him a saucy glance. She rose and, holding the blanket over her nude body, made a futile grab for her robe. The blanket slipped exposing her backside. A quick look showed T.K.'s amused reflection in the mirror.

  "Why do you hide yourself? Don't you know I'm familiar with every inch of that lovely body?"

  "I'm not accustomed to walking around naked," she muttered, "and being ogled."

  "Get used to it, honey." He blotted the water from his face and came up behind her. He turned her to face him. Raw hunger simmered in his eyes. "Kiss me, love."

  Elise strained away from him. The blanket escaped her grip, leaving her completely naked. She heard his quick, indrawn breath and felt the crush of his arms. His mouth ravaged hers. And then nothing mattered, except that he hold her.

  When at long last she could speak, she said the first banal words that came to mind. "The weather's bad."

  "A hell of a time to talk about the weather." T.K.'s ragged breathing lessened to match hers. "I'm going to MacKenzie's camp. If Pat's able to come home, I'll bring him. If not, I'll be back tomorrow night."